


Same Song And Dance

by lucifersshroud



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Other, Rape/Non-con References, Transgender
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucifersshroud/pseuds/lucifersshroud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young boy made a deal with a demon, completely oblivious to the implications due to his family history. He thought he was simply off to Hell. No, no, it was much more than that. It was always more than that with the Winchesters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Song And Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I'm totally obsessed with the idea of wee!chesters as you can probably tell.  
> But yeah this one goes a bit deeper.  
> And deals with transgender issues so if that's not cool with you go away.

**Same Song and Dance**

Everyone—well—every hunter had their desperate sob story when it came to making deals with crossroad demons. Some people were simply poor saps who thought they’d finally been cut a break. If only that were the case. Anyway, back to desperate sob stories. I had my own.

My real father, according to my mother, was up and out of town before she knew she was pregnant, and he simply never returned, so he didn’t even know I existed. Honestly, I preferred that to what the parent who was around. She wasn’t violent, not with her actions obviously, but with her words.

I grew up feeling different. Not different in the sense that, you know, everyone liked NSYNC and Backstreet Boys and I was sat at home head banging to Limp Bizkit. That’d make any stupid kid feel like a special snowflake, even if they really weren’t. No, what made me feel strange was that my head didn’t seem to be wired to my body. As if, when I was up in my mom’s hatch, someone (or…something…some…band of cells or whatever…never went to high school and learned proper biology), didn’t get the memo that boys were meant to be born with, uh, well, what boys are generally born with and stuck me in a proper girl body.

First time I told her how I felt, she locked me away in my room, shouting about how I’d been possessed by Lucifer, himself (oh man, the situation I’m in now makes that fucking HILARIOUS in a morbid and terrifying way), and needed to be purged of my evil before I was let back out into the world. Now, being five years old, I was traumatized. Literally scared straight. Well, not actually, but when I was allowed back out of that room (A WEEK LATER. BECAUSE APPARENTLY IT TAKES A WHOLE WEEK TO PURGE LUCIFER FROM YOUR SOUL), I never spoke of it again to her or to anyone.

So when I was fifteen and attacked by a demon that called me Mason, a name I’d fashioned for myself _strictly_ in my head, told no one about, I was pretty freaked out. She broke in at around midnight (classy, I know) and lord, she made quite the entrance. Slashed my dad’s neck as she blasted the front door in, and after that, she slashed my mom’s as well. By that time I’d tried to kill myself on four separate occasions, all of them having to do with my absolute crap living situation. Mom hated everything about me, and tried to shove it all out through the power of “God’s love and will.” And Dad turned a complete blind eye to the whole thing.

Gave the demon a shock, though, simply walking down the stairs and staring at the bloody mess before me as if I’d seen it a million times before even though I knew I hadn’t. It should’ve bothered me that the mess didn’t, well, bother me, but I couldn’t find it in me to care at the time. Just sighed in relief that I was free of those two bumbling idiots and turned up towards the black eyed girl responsible.

“Gonna kill me too then?” I asked her, voice trembling ever so slightly. I gulped it down, though, determined not to show this _thing_ any indication of fear for it. Had no idea what it was that made me act so calm, so…natural about this completely _un_ natural event occurring in my home. It was like there was something in my blood, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that told me I was made to deal with this kind of stuff. This…supernatural stuff. Back then I thought I was crazy, but now, I just thank God (the actual God, not whatever hateful thing my mom decided was God) I had the genes I did. Otherwise I would’ve been dead on the spot. Granted, had I not been born with those genes, she wouldn’t have come for me in the first place, but that’s completely besides the point. Anyway, back to our little standoff.

She smirked at me and folded her arms across her chest, even flicked her hair out of her face as an added touch. “No, boy, I’ve got orders from low places not to touch a pretty little hair on your head. Not yet anyway.” My interest peaked immediately at the word ‘boy.’ No one ever called me ‘boy.’ Ever. I fumbled with my words for a bit, opening and closing my mouth, furrowing my brow and eyes darting everywhere around the room in an attempt to say something. Preferably something that involved getting some answers.

“How…H-How…” Thankfully, she cut me off before I made even more of a stuttering fool of myself.

“How do I know about the boy thing? Please, everyone knows. Everyone important.” she said with a shrug then started to pace about the room, carefully avoiding the bloodied bodies beneath her feet. “We even know your name, Mason.”

And that’s when my heart all but stopped. No one was supposed to know that. _No one._ I’d planned to run off the moment I turned eighteen, skip town, change my name, and undergo all that other legal/medical crap involved with a sex change. You know, if I’d made it that far. Never really planned to, with the suicide attempts I’d racked up, but it was a nice pipe dream. Never, in my wildest dreams, though, did I ever imagine it coming to end by the hands of a demon. Furthermore, why was I not in the least bit freaked out, as in “oh my God demons aren’t meant to be real why is one in my house?” Again, something about my blood. Some…weird sub conscious thing.

“Start talking. Now. How d’ya know about all this? I never told anyone. Not a single fucking soul.” Okay, so my composure was shattered and I was backing into the wall, wishing I could somehow melt through it and run far, far away from all of this. A sinking feeling in my gut told me I’d never be able to properly run from this, though. Not for long before one of them found me again. Didn’t stop me from being scared out of my damn mind, thought.

She smiled, moved a bit closer to me and my breath hitched. “We’ve been watching you, Mason, for your whole life, waiting for the right moment to pounce. I suggested we move in the first time you tried to off yourself, but the boss said no, said that if you’d succeeded you’d go where we wanted you anyway, so there was no point in making a scene. Pity. He’s always so logical. Sometimes I wonder if he’s even a real demon.” She sighed, deep in thought for a moment it seemed before rapidly snapping her attention back to me, causing me to flinch. “We decided now, though, cause we figured you weren’t gonna succeed. Something above wants you just as much as we do.” My heart was in danger of stopping again from beating so quick. Heaven _and_ Hell wanted me? Oh, that was rich. Why was I so important? What use did angels and demons have with a stupid, self loathing, pathetic trans boy from Montana? I gulped and looked her up and down, as if I’d somehow find all the answers somehow that way. Knowing I wouldn’t, I asked away.

“What d’ya want?” My voice was hoarse, hardly a whisper. My terror was completely known to her, and just absolutely reveled in it, soaking it up and using it to make herself even more goddamn horrifying.

“I wanna make a deal.” she said with another one of her smirks. I stopped shaking for the moment and backed off the wall, more curious than anything at that point.

“What kinda deal?” I replied, crossing my arms in the same manner she had hers. She chuckled.

“Simple, really. I make you a hundred percent real boy, and in ten years, I’ll give ya a ring.” My first instinct was to take it, but then I remembered this was a _demon_ I was dealing with. Another one of those instinctual gut feelings told me that this was a very, very bad idea and that I should just run away and never look back while I still could. I shook my head.

“No deal. I dunno what it is but I just…I have a really bad feeling about this and I’d rather you killed me here and now before I make any sort of deal with you.” Somehow, that was all completely true. I had no idea what the _fuck_ was going on in my mind, but whatever it was, I went with it. And to further my shock, she didn’t murder me on the spot. No, she just sighed and shook her head, even laughed a little.

“Typical Winchester.” she muttered.

“Typical what…?” She gave me one last smirk.

“Nothing. Think about that deal. Mull it over and whatnot. I’ll come back for you someday, but if you feel like talking sooner, summon me up. Name’s Meg.” Then with a wink, she was gone. Literally just vanished from the room, and then I was left there, standing on the stairwell, gazing upon the corpses of my parents, wondering what the hell any of what she said meant, and what the actual fuck I was going to do next.

Two years later, I caved. I was so sick of everything. I was sick of hunting, sick of sleeping in back alleys and benches and hitching rides with strangers and fellow hunters that felt sorry for me being so small and alone. Sure, by that exact period in time I’d finally gotten the hang of credit card scams and managed to max one of them for life on a dingy piece of crap car, but that wasn’t worth anything. I’d chopped my hair off and bound my chest, went by Mason to anyone who asked, but at the end of the day, I was still a pathetic, sorry little thing just going through the motions of life. Well, the motions of a hunter’s life. If I killed myself, I apparently was going to Hell anyway, so why not go down (quite literally) with a bang?

Yeah, I figured out what Meg meant by “I’d give you a ring in ten years.” Hell hounds were going to drag me right into the Pit if I sealed the deal. I didn’t care, though. Not anymore. Sure, I was scared. I was absolutely horrified, but I had no other options that didn’t involve Hell. Of course, I could’ve simply suffered through life as I was, but even that option involved my own personal Hell. Might as well experience the real thing.

Another drag of my cigarette and another shot of whiskey later, my decision was made. I was going to summon Meg (throwing away all of my pride and dignity with it), and make the deal. Another shot to take the edge off, and I was out the door. To make it all official and whatnot, I found a neat little crossroad to do the summoning spell. I took out all of my materials and prepared it precisely, even while downing the rest of my bottle. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, finishing the spell with a few drops of blood painlessly (alcohol’s really a beautiful thing). Then I waited, eyes peeking out to see if she’d show up. After a minute, I heard her manic laugh behind me and the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I whipped around to her.

“Change your mind, baby?” she asked, almost skipping over to me. I, however, was not in the least bit amused. I was broken and desperate and pathetic. My expression didn’t change at all as she bounded right in front of me, eyes twinkling with wicked amusement and grinning.

“Yeah, I have. And I know what I’m giving up. And I know what you’re gonna do with me when my time’s up.” I responded, steady and sure. She gasped, obviously sarcastic, and then smiled again.

“You’ve been doing your homework! Good, good.” she mumbled something under her breath, and almost looked frightened, herself, but quickly all traces of it were gone from her face with a shake of her head. “So, I presto you into some dude meat, and I get your soul for eternity in ten years?” I fought an urge to either roll my eyes or gulp, wasn’t sure which, and nodded.

“Yep.” She frowned.

“You seem more distant than usual. Was it something I said?” she asked, feigning a rejected look. This time I actually did roll my eyes.

“Just get on with it.” I spat, clenching my fists. She sighed.

“You’re just like your father. No fun at all. Strictly business.” she said with a pout. I raised a brow at her.

“I’m pretty sure the only interaction you’ve ever had with my dad was slitting his throat, unless here was something he wasn’t telling me.” She giggled. She fucking _giggled._

“Your real dad, silly! The one who accidentally shot out the wrong chromosome.” I nearly threw up. Out of what emotion, I couldn’t tell. I was feeling so much at once it was impossible to place one fleeting thought, so I simply nodded, gave a nervous chuckle in response.

“You know him then?” Simple question, no doubt a loaded answer I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear.

“Knew.” She replied with a shrug. “Haven’t talked to him in years. My main focus has been you.” She continued with another one of her smug smirks. I gave her a sarcastic one right back.

“Great. Can we just seal the deal so you can leave?” I wanted to know more, was yearning to figure out everything of my past. Over the past two years I tried so hard to dig up any information about the Winchesters, but all I dug up were old criminal records of two dead serial killers and a story about a house fire in the ‘80s. Nothing useful. But that didn’t mean I wanted anymore to do with this hell bitch. I was bent on figuring it out without demonic influence, thank you very much.

“Manners, Mason. But whatever. I should be leaving soon, anyway. Other business to attend to.” The way her eyes lit up when she said ‘business’ made not want to even try to ask what in the world that meant. If anything, it urged me to leave even faster.

She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I tensed up, already feeling gross for what I was about to do. As if to torture me even more, she wasn’t moving. She expected me to make the first move. Throwing away what little dignity I had left, I leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips, just long enough so I could feel the deal being made then broke away, spitting on the ground for good measure. She didn’t even bother with a fake broken heart doe eyed look or anything. Simply rolled her eyes and stepped away from me. I didn’t realize I hadn’t been breathing until I exhaled loudly when she was what I considered to be a safe distance away.

“You’ll wake up tomorrow morning in your new meat. See you in ten years, kid.” She winked at me then vanished, just as she did all those years ago. I shuddered at the memory, shoved it out of my mind straight away and did a sort of walk of shame back to my motel room.

Sleep came to me surprisingly quickly that night. I’d expected to toss and turn, wondering what to expect in the morning, until the wee hours of said morning, but about five minutes after I’d rested my head on the lumpy motel pillow, I was asleep.

Then I woke up feeling…odd. I furrowed my brow, utterly baffled by how just plain _weird_ I felt. It was as if my entire center of gravity had shifted higher, and it made me feel a bit dizzy. I blinked multiple times, trying to get the room to stop spinning. Once it finally did, I jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom.

“Holy shit.” I gasped when I gazed into the mirror. “Holy shit!” I repeated when I heard my voice. Then I was grinning madly, rubbing a hand over the prickly stubble on my face. “Damn…” I whispered, close enough to the mirror to pick out basically every feature. I had short, brownish hair that was spiked up a bit in the front. My eyes were the same piercing green they’d always been. _Meg must be a sucker for eyes,_ I thought to myself with a laugh. “Nice cheek bones too.” I thought out loud, running a hand over them again.

“I wonder…” I muttered, leaning back so I was standing straight up again, still looking in the mirror. I lifted my shirt off and threw it to the ground, beaming at what I saw. Flat chest. Nice abs, too. No doubt Meg took into account how much fighting I’d done over the years and simply packed it all neatly into these new muscles. Even had a nice amount on my arms. I had to admit, she did a damn good job of re-making me. Hell, when I went back into room, new ID cards and whatnot were sitting on the table. All of them Mason. All of them with male gender markers. A sudden thought occurred to me, though, as I was about to leave.

I looked down, unzipped my now way too tight jeans and chuckled, shook my head before zipping them back up and heading out the door. Didn’t even skimp me out on length. For a demon, she really knew how to make a deal worth while.

I sped down the highway, grinning for no reason other than the fact that I was alive. Oh yeah, and that I’d finally gotten what I wanted most. Sure, I only had ten years before those damn hell hounds were gonna drag me down under, but I swore I was going to live the fuck out of those precious ten years. The windows were down, the music blasting, and a large map book was in my lap, directing me to my next hunt. Everything seemed absolutely perfect until…

“Mason.” At the sound of the low, gruff voice in the back seat, I slammed on the breaks, grabbed my shot gun and bolted out of the car at a nearly inhuman speed. I waited for whatever appeared out of fucking thin air to come out, but I was taken aback when the voice appeared right behind me. “I’m not goi—” I didn’t let whatever it was finish its sentence before I turned around and opened fire. My eyes closed, probably out of fear, I noticed, so I opened them. The gun dropped to the ground and I gasped. A man (or something possessing a man) in a trench coat stood in front of me. I looked down and gaped at the two neat bullet holes in his coat, right in his chest. As if I wasn’t shocked enough, when I looked back up at his face, the thing was smiling at me, even chuckled a little.

“You know, your father did the same exact thing when we first met. Except, he also tried to stab me with a silver knife once I got in his beloved ‘personal space.’ Go ahead and try that if it’ll make you feel better, though there is only one thing in the world that can kill me, and I assure you, as fantastic as your hunting skills are, you don’t have it.” 

Well, fuck. How the hell was I supposed to respond to that? I slowly moved back against my car. My breathing was erratic, quick. Not once did I tear my eyes away from the creature. “As I was saying, I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve come to warn you of events that I surely hope have not passed yet.” When I finally found my voice, it was meek, and way too high to be natural. 

“Who are you?” I all but whispered. 

“I am Castiel.” And then I wasn’t breathing at all.  _Guess all those years Mom forced me to Bible school paid off,_ I thought. 

“Angel of Thursday…” He nodded, even smiled again for a brief second.

“Yes. And like I said, I’ve come to you with a warning.” 

I gulped, trembling as I did the first time I met Meg. Demons were scary, sure, but angels? They were warriors of _God._ All powerful and that kind of stuff. Not what I wanted to mess with. Not what I’d _ever_ planned on meeting in my life time.

“All right, well…what’s the warning?” I asked, still meek. Still sounding like a little girl who’d thought she’d just seen a ghost. Except, you know, I was a full grown man who was starting at a fucking angel of the Lord.

As if sensing my discomfort, the angel moved closer, placed a hand on my shoulder, and I gasped, a sudden warmth flowing through my entire body. A beautiful, wonderful warmth I’d never felt in my entire life, and just like that, I knew I was safe. Knew I could trust him. There was something else about him too that I couldn’t place. He seemed to be purposely hiding this bit of information from me. This made me suspicious, but then he at least let me have the feeling of whatever it was. So much love poured out of that part, I thought I was going to burst from it. Okay. He wasn’t telling me something, but it was obviously nothing bad if it felt _that_ amazing, so I let it go. And then he let me go, leaving me cold and empty for a moment as I regained my composure. I just stared at him after that. As if I could’ve said _anything_ to describe how that was. I literally went from wanting to kill the guy to trusting him with my life with a touch on my shoulder. What was a person meant to say after that? Luckily, I didn’t have to because he spoke first.

“Have you made a deal with a crossroad demon?” he asked, grave. My heart was in my throat. _Oh god, what did I do?_

“Uh…yeah…Why, what’s it to you?” I asked, biting my lip. His gaze softened and his eyes, fuck, his eyes stared right into my soul, and I knew I couldn’t hide a damn thing from this angel. He sighed.

“Your father would be able to explain it better than I. I can take you to h--”

“Fuck. No.” Demons? I could get behind. They wanted my ass? Cool, I could take ‘em. Angels? I could get behind them too. No doubt I’d die if I got into a fight with one, but hey, what’s it to them if I take my trip downstairs a bit early? But my _father?_ My biological father who left me with the absolute worst parents for a child like me…ever? No. Not a chance. Not a chance in Hell, and I’d known, seeing as I had a one way ticket. “I’m not meeting him.” I walked around to the driver’s side of my car, opened the door and got in, prepared to drive far, far away from this angel and this bullshit. Of course, the guy showed up in my back seat the moment I started to drive down the highway again.

“Mason. I know you’re angry with him, but he can help you. You’re in grave danger, and you need to understand why.” he explained. My grip tightened on the steering wheel and I bit my lip.

“Why can’t you just tell me then?” I asked. He sighed again.

“Because he understands the more human aspect to all of this. More than I ever could. Plus, he’s been dying to meet you ever since I informed him of your existence.” he responded. I chuckled.

“Nice try, but no. Look, do what you want. Stalk me and keep me safe or whatever, but I’m not meeting the guy. Completely out of the question.” A flutter of wings was heard in the back seat, and I turned around to find the angel had left. I breathed a fresh sigh of relief and drove on faster, hoping to make it to my next hunt before another visit from something else that wanted me to dig up my past.

 

Weeks later, the angel still hadn’t shown, and I was grateful.

I was sitting at a bar in a town I’d already forgotten the name of, had already banged another chick who had a name that started with a C, I think. Maybe a B. I couldn’t recall. That’s not what was bothering me, though. Not what had me downing shot after shot. No, what had me trying to wipe this whole hunt from my mind was what the damn vampire I’d killed had said.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. Then again, none of the hunts I went on ever ended up being simple.

_A swift punch in the face and a dose of dead man’s blood later, this guy still wasn’t talking._

_“Where’s your nest?” I asked, right in his face. He laughed, glancing up at me with a truly amused glint in his eye._

_“Don’t worry about that. You should worry about bigger things than me.” he replied, weak, but strong spirited. I crossed my arms and nodded at him._

_“Uh huh. Why, your buddies coming to get me? Whole place is guarded, idiot. I wouldn’t count on that.” I countered with a smirk. It faded though when he shook his head, almost looked sympathetic at me._

_“You’ve got a bounty on your head I’ve never seen. Heaven and Hell both want the Winchesters so bad.” I visibly winced at that name. The monster’s turn to smirk then. “Weaklings like me? Sure, go ahead, take me out. But that won’t stop the demons, and it definitely won’t stop the angels.” And then he was laughing. Hysterically, and I was furious. I killed him right on the spot, while he was still fucking howling with laughter at me._

_Thankfully, one of the other hunters had scored the location of the nest. They offered to bring me along for the big fight, but I wasn’t in the mood._

And that’s how I’d ended up here trying to forget. It seemed no matter where I ran, my biological family still followed. All the monsters in the world heard of the Winchesters, it looked like. I took another shot, grimaced at the sweet burn, and slammed the glass down with a shaking hand.

“Mason.” I didn’t even have to turn towards the source of that low, gruff voice to know who it belonged to.

“Thought I told you to fuck off.” I said, tapping my fingers impatiently on the bar. I wanted to leave. Now. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to until the angel was done with whatever he wanted to inform me of.

A hand was placed on my shoulder, and I immediately shrugged it off. “Please. We can help you.” I frowned.

“We...” And then my heart all but fucking stopped. Oh, and I nearly doubled over in shock. A man who looked nearly identical to me, save for the whole 20-30 year age difference, walked over. I shot Castiel a burning glare before turning back to the man in front of me. The man I never wanted to meet. The man who’d _left_ me with my pitiful excuse of parents. My biological father, Dean goddamn Winchester. I had half a mind to shoot him right on the spot, but from the kicked puppy expression on his face, he could feel all of my silent fury lashing out at him the same way my gun would, so I spared him. Whether it was out of the goodness of my heart or because I wanted to see him reeling over the guilt of leaving me how he did, I wasn’t sure.

“Told you I didn’t want to meet him.” I said to Castiel, yet still flinging razors at Dean with my eyes.

“I know, but it is a necessity at this point.” He said, his monotone voice seriously starting to piss me off.

“And why’s that?” My ‘father’ was about to respond but I cut him off. “Not a fucking word from you, asswipe.” He sighed, bit his lip and lowered his gaze to the floor. I gulped. Same thing I did when I was fully aware I’d royally fucked up in some way.

“Because you need to understand why so many forces are after you.” The angel said. I frowned.

“And this douche bag can explain that?” Dean got defensive. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing.

“Hey, I was just trying to keep you from this!” he insisted. I rolled my eyes.

“Bang up fuckin’ job you did there, man. Really, I owe it to ya.” I said, holding up my empty glass to him before slamming it back down again. I turned my back to him and motioned for the bartender to make me another.

“Wow, Cas. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said this was my kid.” He chuckled. The man actually had the nerve to _chuckle_ at how furious I was at him. I was about to give another sarcastic retort, but the exchange between the angel and my sperm donor (hey, was better than calling him “Dad”) had me in another fit of shock.

“Yes, Dean. As if I would lie to you about this. A million times.” Castiel was giving Dean _the look._ I had never been in love, myself, but my parents were sickeningly so. And that _look_ the angel was throwing at him was the exact one that my mother used to use on my actual father when he’d said something stupid. And the way Dean was staring back. The same way my father did that just screamed, “I’m sorry, hon.” No way. No friggin’ way. My biological father was fucking an Angel of the Lord. An Angel of the Lord in a _male_ vessel. My mother had to be turning in her grave. More like, writhing and screaming in agonizing pain knowing what her sperm donor was. I laughed, way too loud to be normal. They both glared at me.

“What?” Dean spat, defensive. Again. I just shrugged.

“Nothing, nothing…Nothing at all.” I kept sniggering. He knew, though. He didn’t say anything else, but he knew. Castiel turned to me and got serious again.

“Mason. Your father needs to explain this because, well, he’s been through it. He knows better than anyone.”

A long moment of silence followed, during which, I weighed my options. I could leave, hide from them for the next ten years from city to city, doing my job the best way I’d learned how. I could get dragged to Hell, and become a demon in a few centuries. The very thing I’d hunted since the moment one walked through my door. I could also believe these guys. I could let my biological father explain everything, let him and Castiel watch over me, maybe even convince the angel to drag me out of Hell after I was tossed in, and live a semi-decent life with the strangest couple I’d ever laid eyes on. Both options were ridiculous in their own ways, but there was a lesser of two evils in the situation. Not becoming a demon. Not staying in Hell for eternity. At least, if I did have to end up doing that part of it, I’d get to spend the rest of my life with my family. I’d get answers. I’d know what to fight while I was still alive. So, I sighed, motioned the bartender over again, and bought a drink for my dad.

“Probably gonna be a long explanation,” I said, holding out the glass to him. “If we really are related, you’re probably gonna need this then.” I added, a small smile gracing my features. Dean, on the other hand, was positively beaming at me as he walked over to the stool next to me and sat down. We toasted, God knows to what, and then gulped down our shots. And then he was off. I made sure to listen intently.

He told me about his brother. About how they’d warded off the apocalypse. The whole story you already know about Dean being Michael’s vessel and Sam being Lucifer’s and blah, blah, blah, Cane and Abel and all that nonsense. Dean was dragged to Hell, broke the first seal, and boom. Shit went down, but they stopped it by throwing Luci back in his cage rather than torching half the planet.

Then he got to why I was involved with all of this. Seeing as I was a Winchester, my ass was specifically wanted in Hell to try and start the whole process over again. Break the first seal. Be pulled out by an angel. Be Michael’s vessel. Kill Lucifer. Not the kind of party I felt like going to.

After all of that, I pursed my lips and nodded. Took a drink and tried to let it all sink in.

“So…basically this is all happening because our family is filled with a bunch of angel meat suits?” I asked. Dean laughed and nodded.

“Yeah, pretty much. Well, technically it’s scripture, but because of our stupid bloodline, we’re part of it.” he replied with a smirk. That was pretty much identical to mine. Another drink for both of us, and I shook my head.

“Well, fuck. What am I supposed to say to that?”

“I can tell you what not to say.” I gave him a confused look. “Don’t say yes to any feathery bastards asking to use your ass for biblical purposes.” he said with a wink and chuckled. I brought my glass up, laughing as well.

“I’ll drink to that.” My father smiled, holding his up as well. Then we both downed the remained of our drinks. We kind of just stared at each other after that. And that’s when I made my decision. I was going to stay with him. And his angel. And my uncle, who I hadn’t met yet, but hey, if I was sticking to the whole “live life to the fullest because I’m being dragged to Hell in ten years” thing, I had to do it all the way.

“So, Mason, gotta ask, what’d you get out of the deal?” I nearly threw up my own heart. If he had no problem believing I was his son, he obviously had no idea I was born as _his daughter._

“Um…” I glanced over at Castiel, who looked just as clueless as Dean, or was…pretending? I couldn’t be sure. A sudden feeling of warmth enveloped me completely and I heard the angel’s voice.

“He doesn’t know. If you do not wish to hell him, it is not required of you to do so.” His lips weren’t moving. Bastard was angel mojoing his way into my mind.

“And you know?” I thought, avoiding actually looking at Castiel.

“Yes, I do. I do not condone the way you went about solving this issue, but I do understand the desperation and the lengths people will go to in order to receive what they need.”

I asked the actual stupidest question after that. “I’m still going to Heaven…? Well, I would be if I wasn’t going to Hell for that deal…”

“You _will_ go to Heaven. I will pull you out of Hell before you break the first seal.” Inward sigh of relief. And then I grinned. Even bit my lip because it felt like my face was going to break from how huge my smile was. I was turned away from both of them, so neither of them saw, thankfully. But I knew Castiel could feel it because then I felt even more warmth pass through me. Love, even. Pure, unconditional love so intense it was overwhelming. “My father loves all of His children. As long as you are good at heart, which, I can tell by peering at your soul that you are, what makes His children happy, makes Him happy. And you will be welcome into Paradise.”

 _AndexcusemewhileIscreamabigfuckyoutomymother._ Christ, I couldn’t stop smiling for the life of me. Even laughed a bit out of sheer relief I hadn’t ever felt with such intensity before. Then I remembered Dean’s question, and I regained my composure before spinning back toward him to answer his question. A lump formed in my throat and I found myself utterly unable to speak. Unable to voice the truth. I cleared my throat, but still nothing came out. I awkwardly fidgeted in my seat. Couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Um…I don’t…I’m not ready to talk about it.” I said, cursing myself for acting so afraid, so…well, stupid, really. This guy was ready to accept me even as a goddamn cat, I was sure. And I couldn’t tell him this? Sure, I knew it was normal, the whole “oh my god coming out” thing, but it was still stupid to me. Painfully so. Still, my dad nodded (notice how I’d stopped calling him sperm doner…we were getting somewhere) and shrugged.

“Whatever works, man. We got ten years.”

Strange. Even though I was fully aware that I was being sent to Hell, where unimaginable tortures were no doubt going to be placed upon me, I felt more relaxed than I ever had in my entire life. Sitting with my father and his angel at a bar in a city I couldn’t remember the name of.

 

Five years later, I ended up telling him the truth. First, I have to say this.

Hunting with my dad and uncle was incredible. They knew and had access to information I never even imagine existed. My dad always made fun of me for how much I genuinely enjoyed researching some of the hunts we embarked on. Said I was just like my nerd uncle. Sam and I ended up getting pretty close. He seemed relieved to have me around.

“It gets lonely sitting around at a library looking up mythological lore all by yourself.” was how he so eloquently put it one evening.

I also learned the tell tale signs Castiel was around. My father gave his presence away. Whenever the angel was with us, Dean was lighter, didn’t snap at us as much, and cracked jokes more than usual. Sure enough, usually a day after this, I’d see the angel, myself. I was jealous. So was Sam. My uncle and I always gave each other this exasperated, slightly annoyed look whenever the two of them were together. But we were happy for them. Well, mostly for Dean. In this life, it had to have been nice to have someone to come home to at the end of a hunt.

I never found anyone, myself. No one that lasted longer than a night, but it was all right because I had my family, my real family, backing me up in everything I did, which brings me back to telling my father the truth.

Yet another meant-to-be-simple-hunt-gone-wrong incident had come along. A ghost in the middle of Nebraska. We burned the bones, thought it was over until she slammed me against the wall.

She was a strange one. Nothing seemed to make sense about her. Her spectral form was obviously female, yet everything we learned about this hunt happened to a boy named Mark according to all the records. She fit the bill, though. She haunted the warehouse. She had the same scars as Mark would’ve had. She even had the same facial features as him. It didn’t click until that moment.

“You…You used to understand. You _know.”_ she asked. At first, I had no idea what she meant. I gasped when I figured it out, the missing link. The reason why the boy was buried but the girl remained. The reason why I apparently “understood,” but didn’t any longer. I looked up at her, gaze softening.

“I’m so sorry…” I whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, and her grip loosened, causing me to fall to the floor with a loud thud and a groan before coming to my senses and watching her every move again. She hadn’t stopped crying though, hadn’t gone anywhere else except right in front of me. My family didn’t move either. They looked curious, and utterly baffled. No salt rounds were being fired. They wanted to listen just as much as I did.

“I never told anyone. Never got the chance. My whole life was a fucking lie.” She explained, sobs wracking her body. Slowly, ever so slowly, I moved towards her, caressed her face and lifted it up, so she would look at me.

“We know now. You can rest knowing someone knows…right?” To be honest, I had no idea if this would work, and all I could do was hope to that stupid God that didn’t care I was right. Proving the whole “He doesn’t care” point, it didn’t work. She slammed me against the wall again, along with my dad and uncle.

“No!” she screamed, even added a spectral punch to the stomach along with it. “I’ll never rest! Not like this. Not _ever!_ ” she wailed. She was crushing our bones. Crushing us into dust.

This was also the first time I’d acknowledged Castiel as a second father. Not knowing what else to do, I called out for him.

“Cas… _Dad!_ ” The last thing I saw before I presumably blacked out was my angel father beaming down at me. Then the whole place lit up like a damn nuclear bomb.

When I woke up, my human dad was sitting at the edge of my bed, dabbing a wash cloth over the extra blood on my face and neck. He had this _look_ on his face that I’d seen before in films and TV shows, but never once directed towards me. It was as if I was his entire world, as if I was the only thing in the entire universe that mattered to him. None of the monsters mattered. None of the angels. None of the demons. Just me. I had to laugh uneasily at the intensity. He raised a brow at me. I shrugged.

“Not used to someone…treating me like this.” Weak. I was still very weak. Castiel had healed all my bones, sure, but that didn’t mean breaking them in the first place hadn’t happened, leaving basically my entire body sore and achy in ways I didn’t even know possible. Dean pulled the wash cloth off me and sighed.

“Really? Your mom never…” I shook my head. God, then he gave me the kicked puppy expression again, which I never grew to be able to handle. He grabbed my hand and held it tightly.

“I’m sorry I left you there…” he said, casting his gaze down to the floor. I bit my lip, unsure of what to say or do to try and quell the horrible regret that I knew pulsed through him. I ended up shrugging again, squeezed his hand reassuringly.

“You couldn’t have known she was going to go all psychopath Christian after she had me.” Funny. Five years before, I hated the man for leaving me in that, and here I was, making excuses for him in a dingy motel room now.

“Still…You tried you kill yourself. And you still ended up a hunter. Not exactly what I had in mind for my kid’s life.” I swear, in that moment, I saw his heart being ripped in half simply by the pained expression on his face. I was never good with words. Ever. Never was the one anyone went to for advice or anything like that. It just wasn’t something I was talented at, so again, I was left utterly clueless as to what to say to my broken father.

“Yeah, but you didn’t know. You just were trying to do what was best for me.” He shook his head and gave me a smile. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. It was better than the kicked puppy look, and made me a lot less uncomfortable with the situation.

“Why, though? What’d you try that for? Killing yourself, I mean.” he asked. I sighed, sitting up a bit on the cheap bed. This was going to be a long explanation. I forced a small smile back at him.

“You remember that ghost said I understood?” _Start off simple,_ I thought. _Work your way up to the big confession._ He nodded.

“Yeah, I was wondering what she meant by that.” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and another, and a few more quiet ones before opening them and staring directly at my father.

“Well…it’s a long story…” I told him everything. I was born Madeline Bartlett, a girl. I was confused as a child, ever since I knew the difference between boys and girls. The whole incident with Lucifer apparently being in me (which actually made him laugh because, well, he _was_ in my uncle at one point). Trying to kill myself because I couldn’t _be_ myself. Meg popping in. He flinched at her name. Told him she seemed to know everything about me. She gave me an offer to have a man meat suit. I took it after two years. “And here we are now.” I ended.

Dad was silent for the longest time. I was nervous, but thankfully I could tell he was simply taking his time processing all the information. At least, I sincerely hoped so. I could’ve been reading him wrong. The clock ticked by, seconds taking hours, minutes taking days. Then he nodded, eyes darting over to meet mine, and he smiled.

“So, basically, you sold your soul for a dick.”

And then we were laughing hysterically. We were nearly crying, and that’s now I knew it was okay. He didn’t care. He loved me for me. For the first time, someone in my life loved me for me. All of me, and it was wonderful.

Later on, Castiel showed up. He simply looked confused as he sat down by me. Dean and Sam were sleeping soundly. Dean on the floor, Sam on the bed opposite mine. I turned to the angel and chuckled a bit.

“If you’re looking to get it on with my dad, he’s out cold. Don’t even think your mojo would wake him up.” I said with a smirk. He tilted his head to the side in that “I have no idea what you just said” way.

“I’m positive if I wanted to ‘get it on’ with your father, my powers would be more than enough to wake him.” he said. I rolled my eyes and forced that image out of my mind.

“Figure of speech, pops. What’s up?” I asked. He sat down next to me.

“That is…actually want I wanted to speak with you about.” he replied. I furrowed my brow at him.

“Huh?” He turned to me.

“About how you…call me your father as well as Dean. You cried out for me in that warehouse as your father.” Oh god. Another emotional talk. I wasn’t sure I could’ve handled more than one in the span of twenty four hours, but it was a conversation that needed to be had, and I knew, as always, Cas wasn’t going to leave without answers.

“What about it?” I asked, refusing to meet his eyes.

“Do you…really see me as a father figure?” Responding to a question with another question. Ace. I snapped my gaze back up to him and nodded without hesitation, even chuckled a little.

“Course I do. You’ve treated me as your own since you met me. At first I didn’t understand why, but now that I know about you and my dad…” He blushed. An Angel of the Lord blushed. Another thing added to the list of shit that shouldn’t be possible but apparently was. “I saw you as the annoying step-dad at first, but you’re so…you’re my angel as much as you are my dad’s.” I said with a smile. “The way both you and Dean look at me…no one’s ever looked at me and treated me with so much devotion and love and just…yeah. It’s nice. You’re like the parents I should’ve always had.”

He smiled, the most genuine smile I’d ever seen the angel make, and pulled me into his arms. I fell onto him with a surprised “oomph,” but then relaxed into his embrace, my arms flinging around him as well, as girly and way over the top emotional as it was.

“I never imagined I’d have a son.” he whispered. I hugged him tighter in response. God dammit, I was being cheesy as all Hell again but I couldn’t help it. He was literally my guardian angel. Dad’s too. I was allowed to get all emotional over that. Still, after a bit, it was too much, so I pulled away and grinned at him before lying back down again.

“Well, I dunno about you, but I think today’s been filled with enough emotion to last me until I go down under.” I said. He laughed and rolled his eyes.

“Just like your father.” he replied. I was going to respond with some other sarcastic, smart ass remark but before I could, two fingers were touching my forehead and I was out in a deep, dreamless sleep.

And now, five years after that, here we are. Well, here I am. I’ve been reflecting on my life all day, sat against the wall of our room in...Tampa? Or was it Bradenton? Either way, the day, for me, is going to end the same regardless of which Floridian town I find myself in. I’m going to be a hell hound’s chew toy. Yep, today’s _the_ day. My trip down under.

I gulp, holding my gun to my chest so tight my knuckles were white. The door opens and I jump, pointing my gun at whatever’s coming in. I visibly relax as I see it’s only my two dads striding in. They’ve finished the hunt, and now they want to stay with me, I suppose. I don’t bother asking where Sam is. He knows I’m coming back, but he still can’t handle being around me today, which I can understand. Must bring back traumatizing memories of seeing his brother as a chew toy as well.

They don’t speak; just sit down on either side of me. Immediately, I curl up right beside my human dad, and I hold the angel’s hand. It’s stupid and pathetic, but it’s all I can bring myself to do in this situation. I’m terrified, but I try not to let it show as much as possible. Only letting my physical defenses fall so my emotional ones don’t. Familiar love, peace, and warmth spreads through me at the touch of my angel father’s hand, though, and I sigh, even twitch my lips up a bit. Before I can stop myself, I’m asking an idiotic question.

“Does it hurt?” I hear Dean sigh, and he grips me a little tighter. At twenty eight years old, I feel more like an eight year old hiding behind his daddy from the big bad monster under his bed.

“Honestly? Hurts like a bitch.” I gulp, turn to Castiel.

“Can you make it…not hurt?” I hate being this vulnerable, I really do, but I figure, what have I got to lose at this point by opening up a bit? Showing a tiny teensy little bit of how scared I am. He squeezes my hand.

“I’m afraid I am not allowed to interfere until I pull you out. Bu I will come as soon as possible.” he responded. I nodded, stare at the wall, and cling to my dads. A comfortable silence ensues after this for a while. Dean’s the one who breaks it.

“You regret it?” he asks. I turn to him, giving him an “are-you-seriously-asking-that” look.

“Dude. These have been the best ten years of my life. Even if I wasn’t coming back, I’d never regret a second of it.” For that, I get a smack upside the head.

“Don’t’ talk like that. Not come back. You’re a Winchester. Cheating death is what we _do.”_ I laugh, lean into him more (because I’m not using the word snuggling…or any other word related). I’m about to reply, but am cut off the sound of the clock hitting midnight. My heart beat is in sync with the chimes until they’re done, then it just races to inhuman speeds when the howling is heard.

“They’re here…” I whisper, hardly audible. I stand up, trembling all over and turn to Castiel. “You two get out of here. I’m sure you don’t wanna see this.” A nod from the angel, and a sympathetic gaze from my human father who’d been through this before, and they’re gone.

I hear them again. I close my eyes, bite my lip, and wait.

And now I only feel pain. The damn things are ripping me limb from limb. I scream for my dads out of pure instinct, but neither of them come.

As soon as it was over, it begins again. Meat hooks hold me up, spread my suddenly naked body wide for whatever Hell has planned for me. I struggle, try calling for help, but all I hear is laughter. High pitched, insane laughter I know I’ve heard before. Sure enough, the same demon that made the deal that dragged me here stands in front of me, looking absolutely delighted with herself. As if she’d just given herself a birthday present. Then again, a fresh soul for a demon to cut into is probably just like a birthday present.

“Hey baby, you miss me?” On the outside, I look only angry. She sees right through me, though. I know it. I can’t hide here, not anymore. She’s fully aware of how terrified I am and plans to use it to her complete advantage if the smirk on her face tells me anything. A small, but undoubtedly sharp knife is being twirled around her fingers. I gulp. She brings the knife down, and the never ending pain begins.

 

I take just about the most massive gasp of breath I’ve probably ever taken since I was born and my eyes snap wide open. The lights are too bright. My breathing is labored and quick as I take in my surroundings. Either Meg has found some new even more cruel way to torture me, or my angelic dad finally dragged me out. I see said angel out of the corner of my eye. I’m apprehensive of him. I can’t be sure if he’s real. He sits down across from me and I tense, moving away a bit. He places his hand on mine and I flinch.

“It’s okay, Mason. Demons can’t cause powerful hallucinations. You’re home.” I relax a bit, half expecting to be thrown back onto the rack as soon as I do. A brief squeeze of my hand though as that all too familiar feeling I’ve been dying to feel for lord knows how long washes over me, and I know I’m home. I actually laugh in relief, grinning wildly up at my savior.

“And I didn’t break the seal. No repeat of the apocalypse.” I add. One of Cas’ rare full smiles is given to me in return. Before I can say anything else, my dad and uncle are bursting through the door, six packs in both hands.

“M’boy’s out of Hell and there’s no looming apocalypse. I’d say that’s occasion for a fuckin’ party!” My other father’s enthusiasm is contagious, causing me to leap up and snag one of the packs for myself.

“Since I’m the one that was getting sliced up for months, this whole thing’s mine.” I shoot a glare at everyone, and Dean is about to say something, but Sam gives him his signature bitch face, and he backs off. I smirk. No doubt Daddy dealt with Hell the same way I am if his brother’s face is anything to go by. Besides, if it gets too out of hand, they’ll tell me.

We all laugh, and the party begins.

_Screaming. So much screaming. Even after Meg cuts out my throat, I try to scream, try to call out for help that I have less and less hope each day is even coming._

_I want to give in. So badly, I want to give in. A few more agonizing slices later, and she’s asking me the same question._

_“C’mon, baby. Just pick up the knife for yourself, and it’ll all be over.” She smirks. I spit in her face with a smirk of my own._

_“Go fuck yourself.” A snap of her fingers, and my body’s whole again. My face pales, and my breathing becomes increasingly erratic the closer she saunters over to me. She leans down to whisper in my ear._

_“What a fantastic idea.” she all but purrs. My eyes widen and I start to struggle, what is about to happen dawning on me._

_“No…no, no, no, anything but that.” Her eyes turn black, and she straddles me. Her lips move to my ear and she grazes it with her teeth. I bite my lip to suppress a whimper and turn my head away from her, trying to ignore her advances. When she hovers over me, though, that’s it. That is fucking it. I’m done. Barely been in a year, and I’m done._

_“Okay, okay, I’ll do it just fucking stop!” I wail, tears pricking the corners of my eyes._

_That same insane laughter is heard again, along with a roar of approval from basically the entire demonic population of Hell, and somewhere, I swear I can hear my dad, the original righteous man, crying._

I awake shouting myself hoarse, panting, and sweating profusely. I take a moment to ponder the idea of that actually happening. Would I have given in had she used those sorts of cheap moves? Sure, being hacked to bits daily was no picnic, but it’s better than what she tried to do in my nightmare. They come every night now, without fail. Every single night I find myself giving in because of something else, something she never bothered to try until she was sure I wouldn’t give in any other way. And each night, I say yes. I disregard Earth and all who inhabit it because I cannot fucking take it. I silently thank a God I am fully aware doesn’t care that it was just a dream, and am about to lie back down when I see a shadow across my bed. I reach under my pillow for the knife I keep hidden, but I feel familiar hands grip my shoulders and my head whips around to see my father, the one who’d also been to Hell (and remembered it…Sam had absolutely no recollection of his time down under), staring down at me, concerned.

Embarrassingly enough, I break down completely, falling over on him with a choked sob that turns into gross violent sobs loud enough to wake the whole of whatever city we’re camped out in. It’s as if I’ve reverted to being five, clinging to Daddy after a bad dream. He runs one hand through my hair and one in slow circles on my back that glistens with sweat.

“Shh…Shhh…I know, I know.” he whispers, and I sob harder, knowing this man I love so much, this man who’s done so much for me had to endure the same fate.

“Is it always this bad?” I choke out. He holds me tighter and kisses my forehead before answering.

“No, not always. They’re not gonna be this bad forever. Promise.” Wetness that’s not my own falls onto my head, and I realize he’s crying as well. I throw out any possible shred of dignity I have left and hold my father tightly as humanly possible (well…making sure he can still breathe at least), and cry even harder, myself.

“What if it is like this forever?” I ask, more like whimper. He pulls away slightly to look me straight in the eye, confirming my suspicions that he, too, has tears running down his face.

“It won’t be, okay? I won’t let it. I got you, Mason.” he says, moving his hand to wipe away some of the stray tears on my face. He pulls me in close again, clinging to me as if his life depends on it. “I got you and I’m never gonna let go.”

The amount of love pouring out of my father is insane, way too intense for me to handle, but I take all of it because I need it. I need his love and reassurance that everything’s going to be okay, that things won’t be this bad forever, because if I don’t get that, I’ll go insane. I won’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore. I won’t be able to understand the difference between being back in Hell, and simply being trapped in my own head. The very thought terrifies me, so I just grab hold of all of the emotions being thrown at me that no one’s ever bothered to even try to give me before him. Before all of them. Before I met my actual family that comforts me, protects me in a way I didn’t even know was possible. It’s more than I believe I deserve, but I lose myself in it. I lose myself in his embrace, his whispers telling me that it’s all right, that he’s here, that I’m never going back there, and you know what? I just might believe him.  


End file.
